


Beneath the Pale Moonlight

by bunilicious



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Count Ben Solo, Courtship, Devoted Reylo, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Dracula AU, Happy Ending, Longing, Mating, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reborn - Freeform, Regency Romance, Smut, Vampire Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey, bedroom visits, blood drinking because Kylo's a vampire, garden meetings, getting turned into a vampire, imagery hoe, that is the prompt, the gift of life, together for an eternity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunilicious/pseuds/bunilicious
Summary: His gaze lingered on Rey, admiring the gentle sway of her hips and her elegant nape. The ocean breeze ruffled the hem of her dress and shawl, and her brown curls yearned to escape the confines of her bonnet. He pictured her asleep in her bed, dressed in a nightgown of lace and silk – her hair unbound, falling like a waterfall across her pillow as her chest rose and fell with each breath.Then he pictured her pale neck, exposed and smooth to the touch.He would visit her tonight.-----------A REYLO REGENCY DRACULA AU





	1. Waterfront

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm back from my holiday with a new historical AU, because I'm surrounded by enablers who dared me to write a fluffy Dracula AU (you know who you are!!!). Thank you to @LoveofEscapism for beta-ing this (I don't know how she puts up with me, I swear). This should be a short fic, as I've already outlined the full story, so I hope you all enjoy!

_ Chandrila 1800 _

  


On his three-hundredth birthday, Count Benjamin Solo arrived at the shores of Chandrila aboard a luxurious three-masted ship...and fell in love. 

The journey had been arduous, to say the least, for though his kind could withstand the daylight well enough to not be viewed with suspicion by his fellow passengers, the sun still depleted him of energy far quicker than what might be viewed as normal for a human being. 

Thus, the Count had been forced to postpone his sojourn to the Lake District of Naboo, so as to recuperate for the long carriage ride which lay ahead. As such, with its mild climate and refreshing winds, the venerable seaside resort of Chandrila would prove to be an adequate solution for the few days he intended to rest. Most importantly, the sun was less harsh in this part of the world, allowing for a leisurely stroll along the waterfront as dusk neared, painting the skies in hues of orange while the Count went on in search of sustenance. 

Much to his delight, sustenance was not scarce here. As he wandered along the waterfront dressed in all black, from his Hessian boots to his breeches and thin overcoat, the raven-haired nobleman caught the attention of several marriage-minded mothers who had dragged their daughters across the country to take the waters in Chandrila, a thinly veiled excuse to play matchmaker in the months following the end of the Season. 

Indeed, the youthful looking Count was a striking presence amidst the numerous clusters of ladies clad in white empire-waist dresses, and frilly bonnets held together by pastel colored ribbons. And, just like the people who surrounded him, the Count paid close attention to his surroundings - though not for the same reasons as the mere mortals who sought to catch a better glimpse of him; a tall and pale figure with long legs and broad shoulders, and a countenance that was both aloof and melancholy. 

After a brief stroll, he stopped halfway across the waterfront to sit on a wooden bench, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he took in the refreshing smell of the ocean breeze. 

With his eyes closed, his senses became more attuned, and the Count's shoulders relaxed as he registered all the smells and sounds in his vicinity: dainty slippers and sturdy boots pacing across the pavement, laughing children as they clung to their parents, flowery smells carried over by the salt-filled wind. 

And the distinct sound of pencil on paper, sketching at a furious pace. 

Intrigued, the Count opened his eyes, scanning around to find the source of the sound. It was not unusual for someone to come to this place and sketch the ocean at dusk. He knew that well-enough, having dabbled himself in art just one hundred years before in this very place - though Chandrila at the turn of the nineteenth century had changed significantly since he’d first graced its shores all those decades ago. The sound persisted, but what attracted his attention most was the labored breathing he heard in between this artistic endeavor, as if the owner feared not being able to complete their sketch on time. 

He did not have to look too long to find _ her _.

Nose buried behind a large sketchpad, the lady sat on the bench to his left, face scrunched up in deep concentration. Though he could not see her face completely, the Count had a good view of her dress, a simple, white muslin that hung loosely around her lithe frame, as if she had not had enough time to request that a modiste alter the fabric to suit her needs. Her hair was brown, based on the few errant curls he glimpsed from beneath her bonnet, as well as the color of her eyebrows - the latter furrowed in deep concentration.

Her eyes, however, were her most striking feature - a shade of hazel that he believed had certainly burned bright once upon a time, but had now dulled down for reasons which, despite himself, the Count found himself intrigued by. 

Then, much to his surprise, the mysterious lady glanced up from her drawing, looking straight into his eyes. 

A small gasp left her lips at once, as if she’d been caught doing something she should not have, and the Count immediately realized why she had been so eager to complete her sketch.

She was drawing _ him _.

A ghost of a smile formed itself on his lips, widened as he observed the young lady close her sketchbook and turn away, looking to her left in a poor attempt at pretending she had not been observing him all this time. 

Her hands gripped the sketchbook, and he was certain her laboured breathing had intensified when he stood up and gently paced towards her, arms behind his back in a relaxed stance.

“It seems I have interrupted your activities, Miss…” he spoke, strangely eager to make her acquaintance. 

Her hold on the sketchbook loosened, and he tilted his head so that he could catch a glimpse of her profile, concealed as it was by her bonnet. A small nose and a pale cheek that had once been sunkissed greeted him, the latter now tinted by a delicate shade of pink.

When she tilted her head to finally look him in the eye, he was certain he had forgotten how to properly breathe for a few precious seconds.

The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Miss Reyna Kenobi,” she said at last, her voice gentle, yet pained, as if speaking required much effort. “But everyone calls me Rey.”

She was, simply put, _ exquisite _. A beautiful and firm jawline, a curious and emotional gaze, yet her elegant features bore a pallor of hardship that he knew was unnatural in the case of someone so obviously young. As the Count took in her appearance, he estimated she was around eighteen or nineteen years of age, yet, though human, she had the air of a being with an old and weary soul.

So alike, yet different from his own nature.

He introduced himself, and the mention of his title sparked no interest beyond mere curiosity, no ambition that needed to be fulfilled through his position.

“You may call me Ben,” he then added, unaware why it had occurred to him to shorten his name for her pleasure. Perhaps, he surmised, it was because she had done the same, inviting an air of informality that was unusual in the society she most certainly frequented.

The corners of her lips curled up in a weak smile. “It seems you have caught me, Ben,” Rey said, adjusting the sketchbook in her hands and flipping through the pages. “I had hoped to be more surreptitious, but it seems you are remarkably observant for someone so young.”

Letting out a chuckle, he gestured towards the bench she occupied. “May I join you?”

Nodding, she scooted so as to give him enough room.

“I am not as young as you think I am,” he said after sitting down. “I am but nine and twenty.” 

The words slipped out easily from his lips, for that was when he had stopped aging altogether, living for centuries under the guise of eternal youth.

“That is not old at all,” she said, flipping the sketchbook over so that he could gaze at its contents. “Even in my drawing you are the epitome of youth and good health.”

Looking down, he observed the sketch she’d made, a remarkable likeness, from his aquiline nose to the rounded ears peeking out from beneath his shoulder length hair – the latter unfashionably long, he knew, but essential in order to cover the feature he was most insecure about. She'd even included the dark circles under his eyes, vestiges of the long boat ride he'd only just concluded. 

He should be embarrassed or offended to glimpse his appearance recorded so bluntly on the page, but, oddly enough, he found the attempt charming and wholly welcome. She had drawn him as he was, without any pretense or intention to fix his obvious flaws. 

It was refreshing. 

"I did not do you justice," she said and gave a dissatisfied sigh. "I can only hope I have not offended you." 

"You could never offend me," he told her, gently gripping the edge of the sketchbook. "In truth, I am in awe of your talent. May I?" 

Blushing, Rey nodded, giving him permission to look through her drawings. "They are not much," she said. "We have only been in Chandrila for a fortnight, and my health does not allow me to venture far from our lodgings."

_ Her health. _ The thought stayed with him, and he would have inquired further had society's norms been less restrictive, a strange surge of protectiveness washing over him like a wave. Instead, he flipped through the pages, admiring various intricate drawings of flowers which he assumed were from the garden that belonged to the lodgings she spoke of. 

"Your attention to detail is remarkable, Rey," he spoke, glancing up to see her sweet blush deepen. "You have a great gift." 

He continued his perusal, studying a set of sketches depicting the waterfront and ocean, as well as a few children running on the beach nearby. 

"Do you draw as well?" she asked, leaning forward in rapt attention. 

He closed the sketchbook, letting his fingers dance across the leather cover. "On occasion, yes, but not as well as you do." 

Fiddling with the ribbon which secured her bonnet, Rey glanced down at her lap. "You are too generous with your praise towards me, and far too modest regarding your own accomplishments." 

Ben chuckled. "I could say the same thing about you."

Her lips quirked. "Then I should see your sketches as well, to ensure I do no not exaggerate with my praise." 

Upon hearing her words, his smile widened, inexplicably excited by the prospect of seeing the enchanting lady again. "Will you allow me to call on you tomorrow, then? You will have the opportunity to critique my work at length."

Biting her lower lip, Rey nodded enthusiastically, eyes widened as if she'd been yearning to socialize for a very long time – another intriguing aspect about her the Count committed to memory. It intrigued him how she appeared to be such an odd mixture of outward innocence and inner turmoil – for even though she appeared visibly enthusiastic about seeing him, there was a certain weariness concealed in her gaze that never left her. 

She gave him the direction to her lodgings with haste, her labored breathing relentless until, at last, she coughed covering her mouth with her left hand. 

"I am so very sorry," she said, now launched into a full blown coughing fit. 

Concerned, the Count produced an unused handkerchief from his coat's pocket, urging her to take it. 

"I shouldn't," she said in between coughs, glancing apologetically. 

"Please," he insisted, pressing the fabric into her other hand.

With a trembling hand, she accepted the offering, pressing it to her mouth as she coughed heavily. 

Tightening his grip on her sketchbook, he could only watch as Rey struggled, the reason for her visit to Chandrila becoming all too clear. Having lived for three centuries, he knew all too well what her ailment signified, even when it was not yet apparent to those of her kind. 

And, for the first time in his three hundred years, Count Benjamin Solo, began to believe in fate. 

  


~*~

  


"You said you arrived in Chandrila two weeks ago," Ben resumed when her cough subsided. 

Rey nodded, fiddling with his handkerchief. "I do not yet know how long we shall stay here. The physician believes the air and waters of Chandrila will benefit my health." She paused then, rolling her eyes slightly. "My companion, Mrs. Kanata, agrees, and here I am." 

He regarded her with a gentle look, one he hoped would not be mistaken for pity. Her suffering could not disguise the strength that lurked beneath. "And what do _ you _ believe?“

Her beautiful mouth curled up, but her smile was sad. "I believe I ought to enjoy the time I have left as much as I can." Biting her lower lip, she continued. "It is why I do not bother with formalities and protocol. We have so little time in this life that it seems pointless to waste it by not being ourselves from the beginning."

_ Time… _indeed, it was the one thing Ben knew he would always have in abundance. When one lived forever, a year was nothing but a second. A drop in an endless ocean. 

But for her…Ben's heart pounded as he took in her sunken eyes, for _ her _ time was as vital as water. 

As blood. 

The openness with which she'd introduced herself finally made sense, and now, she looked into his eyes, her gaze searching, as if he were an enigma she wished to uncover. 

The warmth in his chest was as new as it was frightening. "Protocol dictates that a chaperone must accompany you in outings such as this," he said instead, a weak effort to brush aside the strange emotions nestling inside him. "It seems that in your attempt to eschew formalities, you've abandoned poor Mrs. Kanata." 

She rewarded him with a soft chuckle, placing the handkerchief to her mouth for a moment to prevent it from becoming a full fledged cough. "All formalities except this," Rey amended. "Mrs. Kanata has been looking after me since I was born. She has merely gone to retrieve my shawl." 

"Your family must be happy to have her." 

"My family is dead," she said in a matter of fact tone, the voice of someone who had experienced loss a while ago and was used to it. "Claimed by an outbreak of scarlet fever when I was very young. Indeed, Mrs. Kanata is all I have left." 

He swallowed heavily. "I am sorry to hear that," came his reply, voice lowered, otherwise he was certain he'd be unable to prevent it from shaking. 

Placing her palms on her knees, she neatened her dress with slow, yet precise movements. "You needn't be sorry for something you have no control over, Ben. Dying is inevitable. I only wish we had had more time together. Enough for me to have reached an age when I could remember them effortlessly." 

As spoke, he regarded her with rounded eyes. It puzzled him exceedingly to see her speak so casually of her hardships, the tragedies which had plagued her family delivered as a footnote on a page. However, as her lips went up into a half smile, he wondered if her apparent detachment was simply a method to cope with everything she'd experienced up to this point – a way to minimize the impact of she'd endured, and anticipate the inevitability of what was to come. 

"Tell me about your family," she prompted after a brief pause, placing the handkerchief on her lap in a neat square. 

And so he did. How could he not obey when Rey gazed at him so prettily, tucking an errant curl beneath her bonnet? He told her only what he could reveal, glimpses into an aristocratic family that lived in a place so remote, her eyes widened with youthful fascination. 

His own castle, Mustafar, bequeathed to Ben from his grandfather, was even more isolated, nestled deep in the Carpathian Mountains and beyond the Borgo Pass. Indeed, traveling to such a faraway place required patience and determination. 

And time... 

His fingers brushed the corners of her sketchbook, idly picturing Rey's lithe frame strolling across the battlements, armed with pencils and paper. 

"You speak of your home with such fondness," she said, a wistful expression etched on her countenance. "It surprises me that you would leave it to travel this far. Indeed, I am certain that the charms of Chandrila and even the Lake District of Naboo pale in comparison to your majestic mountains and untamed forests." 

He could not prevent the wide smile lit up his entire face. "When you live in one place for too long, sometimes you yearn to see more of the world. To see how others live, to see what they eat and how they spend their days." 

"You are only nine and twenty, yet you speak as if you've been alive for a long time," she pointed out, her gaze becoming more pensive. 

"As do you," he told her in response.

It was vital not to arouse her suspicion, he knew. His kind were the stuff of legends, frightening tales shared by the fireplace during a stormy night. 

She opened her mouth, yet her reply remained unspoken. 

A small figure appeared by her side, carrying a yellow shawl and a disapproving expression. 

  


~*~

  


"I don't believe we've been introduced," Mrs. Kanata said with a serious tone, glaring at him through her thick lenses. 

Standing up, Ben nodded in greeting. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Kanata." 

He introduced himself then, and though he took care to mention his title – lest Mrs. Kanata think he were a penniless fortune hunter – she still regarded him with suspicion, her palm resting gently on Rey's shoulder. 

With a sigh, she sat down, looking at him as she handed Rey her shawl, wrapping it around her lithe frame. Resuming his seat, Ben noticed he was still clutching Rey's sketchbook, and, feeling self-conscious, he returned it to its rightful owner. 

"I believe my artistic endeavors are to blame for the sudden introduction, Maz, " she said, accepting the object with a smile. "His lordship didn't have much of a choice in the matter." 

He nodded, wanting for a strange reason to win the older woman's approval. For the life of him, Ben could not understand why this need overtook him, the knowledge that he was visiting Chandrila in passing at the forefront of his thoughts. The need for sustenance had merely delayed his inevitable departure for a few days, and he sensed his meeting with the enchanting Rey was destined to be cut short – not necessarily because of his great desire for further travel, but more so because he was certain her ailment would curtail any attempts to plan for the distant future. 

Yet, as he gazed at Rey's elegant profile, deeply absorbed as she was in explaining the circumstances of their sudden meeting to Mrs. Kanata, and the enthusiasm with which she spoke of his homeland, he found that he wished to linger. 

"His lordship has generously agreed to call on us tomorrow," Rey announced, covering her mouth with his handkerchief to stifle a cough. 

"We ought to go inside. It is getting dark, and the cold air cannot possibly be good for your health." 

Rey's free hand gripped the edge of the sketchbook in quiet defiance. Her gaze narrowed. 

Mrs. Kanata was right, Ben knew all too well. She was right about the weather, as well as her charge's precarious health. She was right to keep Rey away from the likes of him – for as his gaze lowered to admire Rey's slender throat, he knew his immediate need could only be quenched in one way. 

Shaking her head, Mrs. Kanata regarded him with a curious look. "Perhaps you ought to rest first, my lord. We do not wish to inconvenience you while you are in transit."

She was a woman with sharp instincts, and though he was aware Mrs Kanata had no way of suspecting what he was, she could sense his interest in the young woman she had sworn to protect. 

Still, outrage simmered in his chest. Though in poor health, Rey was of sound mind and in possession of wants that he could sense she wanted satisfied. Her eyes glistened as the sun shone its final rays upon her countenance, alight with fire and the desire to savor every second she had on this world. 

"It is no inconvenience," he responded, straightening his back as heat bloomed across his cheeks. "As a matter of fact, my schedule is quite flexible, and I promised Miss Kenobi to continue our artistic discussions."

Mrs. Kanata's mouth formed a grim line, yet he knew well that she could voice no disagreement in the face of two people who were too set on finishing what they had started. 

"Then we must depart, Rey," she said with a heavy sigh. "Unless you wish to catch a cold and be unable to receive our new acquaintance."

When faced with such a prospect, Rey nodded, wrapping the thick shawl around her shoulders even further. "I will see you tomorrow," she said, her gaze widening with the need for reassurance. 

Ben nodded immediately. "Of course." 

He stood up then, observing as Mrs. Kanata rushed to steady Rey, as if she were worried he would intervene before she could. Letting out a gentle sigh, the young lady stood up and pressed her sketchbook tightly to her chest, gifting him with a secret smile before she turned around. 

As Ben watched the two figures depart, his gaze lingered on Rey, admiring the gentle sway of her hips and her elegant nape. The ocean breeze ruffled the hem of her dress and shawl, and her brown curls yearned to escape the confines of her bonnet. He pictured her asleep in her bed, dressed in a nightgown of lace and silk – her hair unbound, falling like a waterfall across her pillow as her chest rose and fell with each breath. 

Then he pictured her pale neck, exposed and smooth to the touch. 

He would visit her tonight. 

\--


	2. Bedchamber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entering her bedchamber had been an easy task.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience! This has been a very hectic month: work, stress and writer's block have taken their toll on me. But somehow I was able to finish this chapter. Thank you to LoveofEscapism for beta-ing.

\--  
  


Entering her bedchamber had been an easy task. 

Once he completed his transformation from man to winged creature, he'd flown directly to her lodgings, a stone and brick townhouse with a prime view of the waterfront, the same place which had stood witness to their fateful meeting a few hours ago. Much to his relief, he found that she had left her window open, white curtains swaying gently in the night wind. 

Slipping inside, the Count took in his surroundings. His superior vision allowed him to see in the dark, so finding her proved to be a simple enough task, though he appreciated how the moon had cast a dim light upon her figure. 

Sleeping peacefully in the very center of a four poster bed, Rey appeared to him as a vision, as the sweetest dream he'd ever known. 

As he approached her, the Count took in her appearance, clad in white as if she were an angel descended from the heavens. Looking down upon his own figure, dressed in black and cloaked by shadows, he concluded that this might very well be true, for she was so far removed from the monstrous creature he'd always been. 

For a brief moment, he interrupted his progress to her bed, a twinge of guilt etched on his face as he wondered if he might sully her by taking sustenance from her vein. Or that he might lose himself and take too much when she was already so weakened, bewitched as he was by the elegant rise and fall of her chest and her long brown locks splayed across the pillow. 

But, a part of him, the monstrous side he was certain, was curious. Curious to take her vein and verify what he'd dreaded from the moment he'd met her on the waterfront. 

"Ben," she called out in her sleep, her voice a gentle whisper. 

He stood rooted to the floor, mouth parted in shock as he realized she was calling to him in her sleep. Dreaming of him already, though they'd only just met. 

His heart fluttered. 

She slept on her back, one arm elegantly slung above her head as the other rested on her stomach, palm gently pressed against the white linen sheet. 

Unable to control his movements, the Count advanced, padding across the carpet with quiet steps, admiring the flush that spread across the apples of her cheeks. 

A slim volume of poetry lay precariously perched on the edge of the bed, and by the extinguished candle he could tell she had spent her evening absorbed in verses. Picking up the book, he placed it silently on the nightstand, leaning forward so as to study the exposed column of her throat. 

As if summoned, his incisors lengthened, becoming sharper than their normal appearance. During the night, beneath the watchful eye of the pale moon, he could reveal himself as he truly was and ensure his own survival–thrive in a world that would vanquish and fear him if they knew his kind existed in truth. 

In the absence of a mate, he would feed from her tonight, wandering as he always did in a never-ending pilgrimage, until fate would bind him to another who would find him worthy of love. He would take enough to sustain him, but not enough to kill or turn–for he had neither harmed an innocent, nor ever felt the urge to turn another and crave their companionship. 

But, as he gazed upon Rey's sleeping figure, a strange yearning blossomed inside him, spurred not solely by the need for substance, but also by the desire for something deeper. Something more primal and valuable than his own immediate survival.

He leaned down, his nose brushing against her neck as he inhaled her scent, warm and inviting, a flower perpetually in bloom. 

His incisors grazed her skin, and for a short second he froze, hearing her give out a contented sigh. 

Reminding him that, at this moment in time, he occupied her thoughts. 

Brushing the tingling sensation aside, he pierced her skin and drank. 

The taste of her was  _ intoxicating _ , so different from that of the others he had fed from–sweet and fragrant like the finest wine, and it took every ounce of him to control the urge to take his fill.

As he drank from her, the Count recalled a story his grandfather had told him of the day he'd taken his future wife's vein for the first time many centuries ago, of how he'd known from that moment that he was destined to live an eternity by her side. 

And, as the Count continued to drink, the suspicion that had been nagging at him from the moment he met her became a certainty. 

It was there, in the taste of her blood, beyond the sweetness which enticed him. It was in her weak constitution, her labored breathing, and the painful coughing that wrecked his soul in half. 

She was dying. 

She was dying… but fate had brought her in his path. 

  
  


~*~

  
  


When Rey awoke at last, the sun was already shining. 

Her eyelids fluttered open with difficulty, her slumber unusually profound for someone who normally flinched in her sleep at the slightest noise. Yet, last night she had slept - far longer than her usual habit too - and when she moved to pull away the covers and sit up, she collapsed again on the soft mattress, the back of her head sinking into the pillows. She was well-rested, yet weakened, and inwardly she bemoaned her frail constitution.

She made another attempt a few minutes later, her frame swaying when she stood up at last. Leaning against one of the bed’s round pillars, she closed her eyes, adjusting herself to the light and sudden movement. It took Rey another minute to compose herself well enough to head to her vanity, taking a seat in front of the oval mirror.

When she looked at her reflection at last, she gasped. Despite the additional hours of slumber, the dark circles under her eyes had deepened, and her skin had grown paler overnight, as if the sun outside seldomly kissed her skin. Her hair was the same though, long and brown, yet mused slightly from sleep and, looking at her wan countenance she had been surprised to still find it maintained its luster.

And, much to her confusion, the surprises did not stop there. 

Tilting her head to the side, she ran her fingers over a pair of twin puncture wounds piercing the side of her throat, two tiny red dots that she could have sworn had not been there the previous day.

As she picked up her brush and untangled her hair, Rey concluded it must have been an insect which had wandered into her bedchamber during the night, though the mark did not resemble any that she knew of. Her gaze shifted to the right, surprised to see the window closed behind the half-drawn curtain.

“That’s strange,” she mused, placing the brush back on the vanity. “I could have sworn I’d left it open.”

A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts, and she turned around just as the door opened and Mrs. Kanata stepped inside, dressed in a simple grey dress, her large spectacles resting on her nose.

“I thought I’d let you sleep longer,” Maz said, closing the door behind her, regarding Rey with a calm expression, though Rey could still glimpse her companion’s eyes rounding ever so slightly before she slowly placed her hands in front of her slim frame. “You looked tired yesterday.”

Rey gave her a grateful smile, concluding that it was likely Maz who had closed the window at some point during the night. She’d always disapproved of Rey’s habit of letting the night air in while she slumbered, convinced it would only damage her health even further despite the warm weather and stifling interiors.

“I suppose you are too tired to receive guests today,” Maz continued with a measured tone.

Rey gripped the edge of her vanity. At once, the memories of the previous day returned, and with them the Count’s soothing presence and deep voice. He’d given her leave to call him by his name - a shortened version - and the gesture made her heart flutter. His eyes had been kind, and his interest in her sketches had been genuine, far from a mere attempt at being polite.

_ Ben _ . The name itself made her wan skin bloom with steady heat.

She stood up then, using the table for support. “The Count has promised to call on me today, and I fully intend to receive him.”

As she looked at Maz, Rey saw her eyes shift, for the briefest of seconds, downwards. A terrible suspicion nestled itself in her chest, but she pushed it aside for a later date.

“He is downstairs,” Rey said with a firm tone, observing as Maz let out a deep sigh and reluctantly nodded.

_She let me sleep in on purpose_, the thought took root in her mind. _She_ _would have denied his visit had I not awoken in time to inquire._

The wish to confront her companion took hold of Rey then, and it was with great effort that she contained it, determined to see the man who’d captivated her so thoroughly the day before - with his soulful gaze and the air of someone who had lived many lives despite his youthful appearance.

“I  _ will _ see him,” she announced, resolved, reaching for the bell rope to summon a maid.

  
  


~*~

  
  


When Rey entered the drawing room at last, Ben could tell she’d pinched her cheeks.

He returned her courtesy with a bow, yet all the while he chastised himself for what he’d done last night.

_ I’ve taken too much. I’ve weakened her…I’ve caused her great discomfort. _

The words replayed themselves in his mind as she sat down on a light blue sofa and gestured for him to join her. He obeyed, and from the corner of his eye he watched as her companion entered the room as well and took a seat in an armchair near the fireplace, fully intent on assuming her role as chaperone.

He ignored Mrs. Kanata’s sharp stare, focusing his attention on the wonderful lady sitting right next to him. If she scooted any closer, he was certain the tips of her white shoes would touch his boots. She was truly a vision, dressed in a pale pink dress made of fine satin, her brown hair neatly pinned in an elegant chignon. 

From what he knew of the customs imposed upon the fairer sex, Ben was keenly aware that muslin would have been more appropriate for receiving a morning call at home, so inwardly his heart soared at the thought that Rey - this sweet and darling angel - had dressed in this manner specifically to receive him despite her evident exhaustion and attempts to hide it.

Hands resting primly in her lap, she regarded him with the look of someone who did not know whether she should say something first or not, so he spared her this effort - determined to do whatever he could to spare her further trouble.

“I confess I was afraid I would not have the pleasure of seeing you today, Miss Kenobi” he said, observing the artificial blush she’d brought to her cheeks deepen - this time with genuine color. 

“I was afraid as well,” she replied, and her gaze shifted for a second to regard her companion - seated on the same armchair, having picked up a book in her hand at some point during the conversation. “But we need not worry about that now.”

A brief silence settled over them both, and he could tell from her expression that Rey yearned to ask him something. Her mouth had parted slightly and she took a deep breath to calm herself.

“How long will you be in Chandrila for?” she asked him at last, uttering the words so quickly it was a miracle he even caught them.

His lips curled up in a smile, watching as anticipation nestled in her gaze.

“At first I thought I’d stay here only for a few days. Chandrila was merely a stopping point when I arrived here,” he replied, placing his hands on his knees. If he leaned further, Ben was certain he could brush the tips of his fingers against her dress. “But now…I find that I wish to linger a while longer.” 

He did not need to say he’d decided to stay for her. It was clear to him that she understood, from the way her blush deepened even further, as well as the slightest hitch of her breath. 

“I brought something for you,” he resumed, slipping his hand behind his back to reach for the small box he’d bought just before the visit. 

Clasping the objects in his hand, he extended it to her, watching as her eyes rounded with genuine surprise and joy.

With trembling hands, she picked up the box, opening it to reveal the small tokens he’d chosen specifically for her: a series of paints and brushes, as well as some additional tools for her sketches. 

“I know that some view flowers as a more appropriate gift,” he said as she gingerly touched the brushes, running her fingers along the wooden sticks. “And I will bring you flowers,” he amended when she looked up and regarded him with a wide smile. “If you want to, of course. If you will allow me to call on you again. I…” He rubbed his nape, nervousness overtaking him as if he were a mere child. “I would hate to give you something you did not like…though I am not assuming you like my gift. I am merely hoping that you do.”

“I do like it,” she said, picking up one of the paints to study, the deep red striking in the morning light. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath. “I am glad. I was hoping you would appreciate something that was of actual use.” He paused, biting the inside of his cheek. “Not that flowers are useless, of course.”

Rey let out a soft laugh then, and as she did so the flush of his cheeks now matched his own. In the three centuries he’d been alive, this was a novelty for him, to be sure, and he marveled continuously at the effect she had on him.

“I don’t believe they are useless either,” she said, placing the items he’d brought back inside the box, touching the object with steady hands this time around. 

It was as if the tables had suddenly turned, and he was now the one who had completely lost his self-possession.  _ He _ who had always been the picture of utter composure. Ben would scarcely have believed it had it not been for the fact that the proof of his novel behavior lay in front of him, clad in a dress of pristine silk, hands nearly resting on top of a small gift he’d ruminated over all morning before his arrival, worrying in vain that she might not like it. 

And, as she regarded him with a look of newfound confidence, he found that he did not mind the strange sensations which had taken hold of him, the odd pounding in his chest that resembled the frantic beating of a drum. If he could see her like this, smiling and satisfied for all eternity, he knew he would be happy. 

“It would please me greatly to see you again, my lord,” she said, reminding him of the words he’d spoken in a rush amidst his babbling explanations. “Perhaps next time, we can also discuss your art?” 

Her hands inched forward, one breadth away from the dark fabric of his breeches, just enough to not be considered inappropriate by the chaperone who watched over them like a hawk. “I have not forgotten about it, you see.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


On the following day, the Count arrived laden with presents in front of her doorstep. 

Watching from the drawing room window that offered a generous view of the happenings outside, Rey could barely stifle the smile which broke on her face. Having awoken early this time around, strangely refreshed in comparison to the day before, she had assumed her usual seat on the sofa until she heard Ben’s carriage stop in front of her lodgings. Ignoring Maz’s judgmental looks, she stood up and went to the window, observing the events outside with the aid of the thick white curtains that concealed her frame.

When she heard two sets of steps proceed across the corridor, she hurried back to the sofa and resumed her usual position, picking up a newspaper in a show of preoccupation.

Soon enough, the butler announced Ben’s arrival and the man in question finally entered the room, dressed in his usual dark attire, but holding a series of very colorful gifts.

“Mrs. Kanata,” he greeted the older lady with a polite bow, taking care not to drop the items precariously nestled in his arms. “These are for you.”

He handed her a box of marzipan candies, and Rey watched with an amused smirk as Maz’s eyes widened at the gesture, surprised that their visitor had thought to gift her something.

Then, Ben finally turned to her, the apples of his cheeks tinted with a slight blush. His hair was the same as it always was, lush and wavy and incredibly unusual for a man in this time and age, but she liked it tremendously, and with each passing second her desire to run her hands through it and then caress his face increased.

“And these are for you, Miss Kenobi,” he resumed, extending a beautiful bouquet of pink and yellow roses.

She took the offering and, as her hands wrapped around the stems, wrapped in white paper lest she accidentally injure herself, her fingers brushed against his own. For a brief second, she lingered on purpose, observing as his eyes darkened with clear understanding. Her own cheeks now flamed, as if she’d been caught doing something inappropriate, though the touch was as innocent as any. Or, perhaps, Rey mused when she finally brought the flowers to her nose and inhaled their pleasant scent, it was the thought that Maz was probably giving them a dissatisfied look that was causing this reaction - a strange mix of a maid’s embarrassment and desire to overcome the artificial barriers society had imposed upon them.

If the rules of decorum hadn’t prohibited it, she likely would have thrown herself in her arms and kissed him.

“You may sit down, my lord,” she said instead, ringing a bell to summon a maid who could bring her a vase and water.

Once it was all done, she served tea, amused by the sight of Ben’s large hands holding a ridiculously small teacup decorated with colorful wildflowers as he sipped from the warm beverage.

“I see you’ve brought your sketchbook,” she remarked, eyeing the item he’d placed next to his seat on the sofa.

Placing the teacup down, he nodded, hands fidgeting. “I promised you, didn’t I?” he asked, lips curling up in a shy smile. “And I am a man of my word.”

Her belly fluttered as he said those words, his voice low and soft like velvet, his eyes boring into her own with sincerity and, she realized, nervousness.

“You needn’t be afraid, my lord,” she assured him, clasping her hands in her lap. “I have shown you my work despite my fears that it might be lacking.”

“Your work is far from lacking,” he said with an earnest tone, reaching for his sketchbook. 

She watched as he fumbled with the edges. “Then what are you afraid of?”

The question came to her immediately, observing the manner in which his normally direct gaze shifted. He bore the look of a man who did not want to be asked many questions, though if those inquiries pertained to his artistry or the subjects depicted on the page, Rey could not tell.

Still, she regarded him with a look she hoped appeared encouraging, waiting for him to open the book and show her his work.

His sketches were unlike anything she had ever seen.

Taking them in her hands, Rey’s eyes roamed across the elegant lines and bold colors depicting wild untamed forests and old cities she was certain existed at the other end of the world - places so remote she was certain one needed several lifetimes to visit and record their likeness. Even in the books she’d read and studied as a child - lengthy and dry tomes which spoke of lands so far away they might as well have been a figment of the author’s imagination - she had not found illustrations with such attention to detail. It was as if he’d had months instead of mere days to capture everything so precisely.

“You must have seen a great deal of the world,” she murmured, studying the depiction of an old temple. “To be able to draw so many places and depict each detail so vividly.”

He rewarded her praise with a small chuckle. “You think too highly of me. This is merely the work of an amateur.” 

Some drawings were older - she could tell from the yellowing parchment - yet they were remarkably well-preserved. “You should resume your work regardless of your training,” she continued, brushing aside his attempts at self-deprecation. “I can tell this is an occupation you have given up long ago.”

His eyes widened then, as if she’d said something odd…or, she realized as Ben clenched and unclenched his fists nervously, something entirely too accurate.

“It does not matter whether you’ve stopped one year ago or ten,” she continued, the desire to offer comfort washing over her like a gentle wave on Chandrila’s shore. “You can always come back.”

Quirking his lips, he glanced into her eyes at last, his gaze wistful. “Sometimes, when you have seen too much of the world, everything starts to lose its charm. It all becomes ordinary and one moves through life with apathy and the absence of all purpose.”

Unbidden, the moments of physical weakness returned to Rey - the almost constant exhaustion and the looming threat of another coughing fit overtaking her. Her arrival to Chandrila had shown no improvements and, indeed, this morning had been the first day in which the coughs had not raked her chest. Yet, she knew all too well it was merely a temporary state. 

A reprieve before the worst came. 

“I should like to have that much time,” she could not help but remark, fingers brushing against one of Ben’s other sketches - a group of wild animals feeding by a river in the distance. “To have so much time and not enough activities to fill it with seems like heaven to me.”

“Or hell,” he added, eyebrows raised. “It is always the most challenging when one goes through life alone.”

The meaning of his words was not lost on her, and she asked herself just how much he’d travelled across the world, wandering aimlessly from country to country in what seemed like eternal solitude.

“You don’t have to be alone,” she said, biting her lower lip as she waited for an answer.

A flicker of understanding nestled itself in his gaze, and his eyes rounded ever so slightly, giving him that impossibly youthful appearance she found more and more endearing with each passing minute. 

“I’m not alone,” came his reply, uttered with a soft voice - as if he were imparting a great secret. “At least not anymore. As of late, I’ve begun to seek companionship more often.” 

As he uttered those words, her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and a now familiar heat washed over her lithe frame. “And what is that like?”

“It’s like something I’ve never experienced before,” came his reply, and from the straightforward way he’d uttered it, Rey could tell he was earnest. “I never thought the day would come.”

She wanted to ask what he meant by that, why he seemed to have waited so long to build a human connection. But, with a quick glance sideways, Rey saw as her chaperone busied herself with the marzipan candies in a show of covering up her interest in what was being discussed.

_ Some other time, perhaps, _ she mused, resuming her perusal of the intricate sketches which rested in her lap.  _ If time allows it _ .

“I wish I had enough time,” she found herself murmuring as she studied another drawing, this time of a castle nestled deep in the tall mountains of some foreign land. “To see the world you have seen. To travel to the places you have recorded so diligently.”

_ To be with you _ . The thought remained unspoken.

“You will.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


It took almost a fortnight for them to finally converse in private. A fortnight in which Ben called on her every single day, conversing in the drawing room under the watchful stare of a chaperone who, for some mysterious reason, objected to his presence.

This time, however, he finally mustered the courage to invite Rey for a stroll along the waterfront, making the most of a sunny day and the assurance that the lady he sought to woo could handle such exertions. 

Mrs. Kanata had objected, of course, but her protests were quickly silenced upon witnessing Rey’s unbridled enthusiasm. 

And so, Ben found himself walking beneath a cloudless sky, with Rey by his side, arms linked despite the thin layers of fabric that stood between them. Meanwhile, her chaperone and a maid trailed behind at a respectable distance, close enough so that they could observe the courtship unfold, but far enough to prevent any snippets of their conversation to carry over.

“Tell me about your family,” Rey prompted him as soon as they began walking. 

From the eager tone she displayed, Ben was certain she had wanted to know more about his life for a while, yet the presence of Mrs. Kanata during his visits had impeded her from asking such an intimate question.

And so he answered, sharing stories that were true, yet did not betray what his family really was. His parents and grandparents lived in castles as remote as his, away from prying eyes, yet never alone.

“But you live alone,” she pointed out when he finished. “And something tells me you’ve lived like that for a very long time.”

His lips quirked at that. Rey’s perceptiveness never ceased to amaze him, as if just with a single glance she was able to peer straight into his soul. 

_ If only she knew just how long _ . “Is that so?” he asked instead, brushing away the thoughts of loneliness that threatened to creep in. 

It was in moments like these, when he experienced genuine companionship, that Ben realized just how much he did not want to return to a life devoid of Rey’s presence. Her voice, her smiles, and her sweet scent had all become somehow integral to his very existence. 

“I suppose it has been a while,” he mused as memories of centuries of solitude flashed before his very eyes. 

His parents and grandparents were fortunate enough to have someone by their side to share their life with, and had he been in their situation, Ben was certain three hundred years of existence would not have appeared so long and empty. 

  
  


“However,” he continued, raking his eyes over the slope of Rey’s neck - now devoid of any puncture marks, “recent events have taught me that loneliness is something that can be easily remedied.”

As he uttered those words, his mind conjured new images - a castle, once devoid of laughter, teeming with life and affection; the weight of a second body reclining on a large mattress in search of warmth; a soft pair of lips -  _ his lips _ \- wandering along Rey’s collarbone as an eager gasp left her parted mouth.

“With the right person.”

Her cheeks bloomed a dusty pink as he uttered those words, yet with that delightful reaction came a pained expression that her eyes could not conceal.

“You have a certain air about you,” Rey said, brushing away a stray curl that threatened to escape her bonet. “I know you are only nine and twenty, but you have the appearance of someone who has lived a dozen lifetimes, and has become jaded and disillusioned with everything life has to offer because you’ve experienced it all..”

Her gaze shifted then, glancing at the pavement as they walked with soft steps. “I wish I had that luxury. To me life seems a fleeting shadow - borrowed time that one can never fully enjoy.”

A cold shiver raked through him at her words, and once again he was reminded of just little time she had left. 

The gift of time was one he could easily bestow upon her, and, in his heart of hearts, Ben would do it gladly. 

But, in order to accomplish such a thing, he would have to make his true nature known to her. 

He would have to entertain the possibility that she might reject everything his kind represented. Centuries of fear ingrained into the minds of humankind could not so easily dismissed.

He could not turn her, unless she wanted to. Unless she wanted this life and what it represented.

And for that he needed time. Time to reveal it all to her, without fear or doubts clouding his every thought.

Time of a different sort. Time he did not have.

It was the cruelest irony.

A soft cough escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth with a handkerchief, mumbling an apology as she did so.

If he had not been robbed of speech, he would have told her not to worry. But, as Ben stared at the crisp white fabric in her hand, he found himself unable to breathe, too focused on the small details embroidered into the material.

He recalled how he’d given that same handkerchief to her upon their first meeting, when a coughing fit had raked her lithe body, powerless as he was to help her any further.

She’d kept it. 

  
\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still reading this, I hope you enjoyed the update and I would love to hear from you. Your comments and kudos keep me going. Thank you to LoveofEscapism for beta-ing! Hopefully writer's block won't give me trouble moving forward. Cheers!


	3. Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dying is what I fear most,” she replied, giving him a resigned smile. “Now that I have something to live for.”
> 
> “You will live,” he insisted, inching closer and closer until there were barely a breath away. “I’ll help you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support and patience! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. Thank you to @LoveofEscapism for beta-ing!

\--

On that same evening, Rey coughed blood for the first time.

She had seen this moment coming, of course. The coughing fits, combined with her sunken eyes and deathly pale complexion, were proof enough that she was haunted by darkness. For years the cruel beast had lain in wake, waiting for the right moment to strike and take what little was left of her.

The right moment proved to be the cruelest. 

Rey had spent her life in anticipation - a part of her uncaring for the brief years she had left upon the earth, living out her days in hopelessness and ennui - until a fateful meeting just over a fortnight ago, when she finally realized what it truly meant to be happy.

Of course death would come for her _ now _, when all she wanted most was to live.

Clutching Ben’s handkerchief in her hands, she stared at the red splotches that tainted the fabric, disbelief and fury fused within her until she could no longer distinguish the two. Tears pricked at her eyes, the corners stinging until her eyelids fluttered closed and they trailed across her cheeks, twin streams filled to the brim with sorrow.

All her life she’d been prepared to die - at times even anticipated the moment, for it could only mean the end of her suffering - but now that she was faced with the indelible proof that she was not long for this world, despair gnawed at her heart and thoughts of what could have been stemmed from within.

“I will never see him again,” she said to herself, her voice muffled by the palm she brought to her mouth to stifle the sobs that burst forth. 

Indeed, after tonight, Rey doubted she could welcome him inside her home with the knowledge that she would leave this world and taint him with her illness in the process. If she truly loved him, she knew it was best to let him be.

And she did. Overwhelmingly so.

A gust of wind interrupted her musings, the cold air pricking her skin like needles. Wiping her tears with the palm of her hand, Rey looked up, eyebrows furrowed as she realized the window was open, though she was certain she had closed it the last time she’d been in this room. 

With an unsteady gait, she approached the window, drawn to the night outside like a beacon as she held onto the handkerchief, as if she feared the wind would blow it away. 

The moon looked peaceful as Rey leaned forward, resting her elbows against the windowsill, round and full of light - full of the vitality that Rey herself lacked. It was silly to be envious of something so far removed from humanity, but she could not help herself, consumed as she was by dark thoughts and an even darker prospect.

With a heavy heart, she glanced towards the garden below, only to gasp in surprise.

  
  
  


~*~ 

  
  


_ He _ was there.

Standing tall in the heart of the garden below, Ben looked at her with the determined gaze of a man who wished to speak with her in private..

The shock of seeing him was so great that she dropped her handkerchief, the white fabric borne by the wind like a bird flapping its wings, helplessly, until it landed on the soft grass, right in front of the very person who’d consumed her thoughts for the past two weeks.

The air ruffled his hair slightly, inky waves as dark as the night which engulfed him. Beneath the moonlight, his face looked paler, yet somehow inexplicably radiant, as if he thrived on the absence of the sun.

“Ben,” she murmured, despite knowing there was no way he could hear her from her vantage point, a part of her aware that if she spoke any louder others would be alerted to his presence.

And she did not want that to happen. At all.

Just as much as she did not want him to bend down and pick up her handkerchief, the proof of her illness and doom etched in blood.

She was not that fortunate. His long fingers caressed the fabric as he held it in his hands, doubtless aware it once belonged to him.

When his eyes collided with the red splotches which stained it, his gaze seemed to darken. With what, Rey could not tell.

Was he as resigned as she was? Was he as desperate, filled with anger and despair?

For a brief moment she looked down, eyes fixed upon the windowsill she now gripped until her knuckles whitened. Tears trailed down her cheeks until they fell upon the wood, and it was then that a loud sob wrecked her entire frame.

“_ Rey _.” 

His voice was close. Too close for him to be standing outside.

Perplexed, she turned around, only to find Ben standing inside her room, clothed in black and clutching her white handkerchief. His eyes never left her face as she took in his appearance, a gaze etched with a dark fire.

“H-how did you get in here?” she stammered, using her sleeve to dry away her tears, pretending that he did not just see her bare her true sorrow to him for a few stolen moments. 

Still, despite her pain, curiosity took hold of her. Curiosity and…sheer confusion. Just minutes ago he was in the garden below, gazing at her with inscrutable eyes.

And now...now he was here, pale and towering, broad and gentle. A myriad of contradictions.

“You are dying,” he said instead, in an odd matter of fact tone, holding out the handkerchief to her like an offering.

She took it quickly, giving him a puzzled look as she made sure her skin did not brush against his own. “I am.”

Biting her lip, she turned away, looking out at the open window. It was strange to feel this calm when, just moments ago, he’d been standing somewhere else before materializing inside her bedchamber. “You didn’t answer my question. How did you get in here?”

She heard him pace behind her, stopping just inches away from her, his breath warm and soothing upon her nape. “It is difficult to explain.”

“I don’t have much time left, so I hope you can start your explanation soon.” She paused then, fingers curling against the handkerchief, too fearful to turn around lest a new wave of tears raked her. “Soon enough, I won’t be around to listen to it.”

“What if I told you I could save you from all of this?” His voice was gruff when he spoke, punctured by a shard of determination that made her turn around to finally face him.

Her lips went up in a pained smile. Despite the proof which she held in her hands, he still held out hope that she could be somehow saved, that much was clear. She was not sure if his belief touched her or pained her even further, for everyone could plainly see hope was for naught.

“It is a beautiful dream, Ben, but you can’t save me,” she replied, lowering her gaze to look at his cravat, the only piece of clothing he wore that was not black. She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Nobody can.”

“Rey…” he began, but she held out one of her hands, determined to continue.

“My ailment is incurable,” she said. “What you saw just now is the proof that my end is near. This will likely be the last time we meet. It is best if I confine myself to this room, lest I spread this terrible disease to some unsuspecting humans. Lest I give it to _ you _.”

The confession caused her to drop the handkerchief on the floor, her fear finally verbalized to the man she loved. It pained her to look into his face, scared that she would still glimpse the shred of hope simmering in his gaze.

“I wish I had more time,” she continued, looking away from the stained fabric, as if that could magically erase the blood which stained it. “I wish _ we _ had more time. Ben, these past weeks have been the happiest of my life.” She took a deep breath, knowing the confession that was about to leave her lips. “I will die but…but at least I had the chance to know you. To love you...as brief as our time together may be.”

His breathing hitched, and for a moment it seemed as if time had stilled for Rey, waiting as he opened his mouth and spoke.

“I love you too, Rey. And you won’t die, unless you want to,” he said, the words simple but uttered with so much passion that she finally looked up, stunned to see the passion in his gaze.

It was not pity, for which she was glad, certain she would have hated glimpsing that look as she stared into the depths of his brown eyes. 

“Dying is what I fear most,” she replied, giving him a resigned smile. “Now that I have something to live for.”

“You will live,” he insisted, inching closer and closer until there were barely a breath away. “I’ll help you.”

“Ben,” she replied, shaking her head at the absurdity of his statement. “You are but a man. A human with flesh and bones, just as I am. As much as I love you, I have to admit my ailment is beyond anyone’s control.”

He swallowed heavily then, as if something great weighed on him. His eyes bore into hers, as if they were staring into the depths of her soul. “I am not a man.”

She would have laughed in his face then, had his tone not been so serious. Had he not spoken with the grave voice of a man who was about to bare his heart to her.

“What are you then?” she asked, her voice lowered, at the back of her mind still mindful that though they were alone in this chamber, her chaperone could walk in on them at any time if she heard anything suspicious. “Tell me.”

He said nothing. He showed her instead.

  
  


~*~

  
  


Upon observing his elongated fangs, Rey instantly realized who…or _ what _ he was.

There was no denying it.

All of a sudden, everything made sense: his pale complexion, the ancient eyes which offered a glimpse into a soul that had roamed the world for centuries, the puzzling demeanor and certainty that he could conquer death itself.

Because he’d done so already. His own existence was an anomaly. 

Her lips parted, and she brought her hands together to rest on her stomach in an effort to quell the need to touch him - to prove that this was all real. Anyone else would have screamed, terrified of such a creature that only existed in nightmares and folktales, but Rey simply stood there, rooted to the floor like an unyielding tree.

Rooted and intrigued.

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said, and she instantly detected the disbelief in his voice.

His fangs receded, as if they had never emerged in the first place, as if the precious few seconds in which he’d revealed himself to her were but a dream.

Still, she knew what she saw. “No,” Rey answered, her cheeks flaming. “I’m not afraid, Ben. I’ve never been afraid of you.”

A relieved sigh escaped him.

“How old are you?” she asked, teeth grazing her lower lip as she waited.

“On the day I met you, I celebrated my three hundereth birthday.”

She did not know whether to laugh or weep. “And you were alone...all this time.”

The corners of his mouth went up in a smile, a clear attempt to assuage her worries, of that Rey was certain. “Only you could find yourself faced with a monster and worry about his well being.”

“You’re not a monster.” She lowered her arms, finger brushing against the thin fabric of her dress.

She yearned to touch him. All she had to do was raise her hand and cup his cheek, but her curiosity impeded her, for Rey knew well that as such as her skin brushed against his own all rational thought would vanish.

“You are too kind to me, Rey,” Ben replied, a strange look of remorse embedded in his gaze. “Kinder than I deserve.” Swallowing heavily, he continued. “I drank from you just a few hours after we met on the waterfront like a greedy animal, eager to taste your blood. You were sick, and I couldn’t stop myself from taking my fill.”

_ Now it all makes even more sense _, the thought seized her suddenly, like a summer storm arriving when one least expected it. Perhaps she should have felt appalled by his behavior - from the regretful and meek look he gave her, Rey was certain he expected her to react that way. But, oddly enough, that only made her curious.

“How did I taste?” she asked instead, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips. The thought of his fangs sinking into her neck seemed intriguing, and, she realized as she rubbed her thighs together, mysteriously arousing.

His eyes fluttered closed, visibly recalling the moment he’d taken her vein. With bated breath, Rey waited until he opened his eyes and spoke. 

“Like heaven and hell,” he replied, carding his fingers through his windswept hair. “Like you were destined to be mine forever, as much as you were destined to leave the world - cursed by an illness you cannot control.”

Her mouth parted as realization seeped into her veins. All this time, he knew he was sick and, despite that obstacle, he still sought her company.

He still allowed himself to fall in love.

“A part of me regrets that night, for I had weakened you,” he confessed, his earnest gaze seeking her own. “But the other part of me is glad to have found out about your illness, when I know I possess the power to make it disappear. To give you a _ new _life.”

A shiver raked her spine, anticipation taking hold. In her heart of hearts, Rey knew how he could accomplish such a miracle - the stories about his kind known to her since she was a child.

Still, she asked, her voice a whisper. “And how will you do that?” 

He lifted his right hand then, and his fingers inched closer until they were but a breath away from her neck, almost caressing her sin.

“But only if you want to, Rey,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “An eternity is a very long time to stay alive.”

“An eternity seems enough,” she responded anticipating the moment his fingers would finally touch her skin. “Especially if I get to spend it with you by my side. It would be the greatest gift of all.”

To think that, just a few moments ago, she was counting her final weeks, overwhelmed by despair and regret for the life she could have had if fate had dealt her a different card. But now, she had the chance to defeat the darkness looming over her - build a new life together with the man she loved and see the world.

How could she say no to that?

“Rey.” His voice was pained, serious. “I don’t want you to feel indebted to me. I wish to give you this gift with the reassurance that you are free to go and do as you please.”

She touched him then, her palm cupping his large hand. His skin was cold, unusually so, another unique trait of his kind. 

“If that is the case, then I want to be with you, Ben.” 

“This is not an easy life,” he resumed, closing his eyes as her hold on him tightened with reassurance. “The first year will be the toughest as you adjust to the changes, to the unyielding need for sustenance. Then, as time goes on, you will live as I have, watching the centuries pass while the world around you withers and dies.”

Shaking her head, she brought his hand until it was a breath away from her lips, kissing his knuckles. “You’ve been alone for too long,” she said, smoothing his skin with her thumb. “I am not under the illusion that every day will be perfect, Ben. I may be young, but I’ve known my fair share of suffering.” 

Her gaze shifted to the floor, where the discarded handkerchief lay. “However, I believe that our life will be easier than it was before because we will go through every trial together.” 

“Rey…”

She looked up, observing as his brown eyes welled with unshed tears. “I want this, Ben. I want to be with you in every way, if that’s what you want as well.” 

He lowered his head toward her, and she could feel his warm breath against her skin. “I do.”

And with that he kissed her, bringing her body flush against his own.

  
  


~*~ 

  
  


“I’m going to mate you, Rey,” he whispered against her ear before trailing kisses along her jawline.

Then, with a grace that left her breathless, Ben wrapped his arms around her waist, palms resting on her lower back as she shivered with anticipation.

She’d never been more excited to ‘die’.

“I promise I’ll be gentle,” he continued, fingers playing with the buttons at the back of her dress.

Her hands went up to play with his hair, carding his wavy locks while he nibbled at her ear. “I don’t want you to treat me like a fragile flower,” she said, tilting her head to give him access to her neck. “Please don’t hold anything back.”

They were mere inches away from her bed, and a part of her wondered and hoped that his idea of mating matched her own. That he had other things in mind before taking her vein until the very last drop.

“I won’t,” Ben replied in a gruff voice, pressing her body against his before claiming her lips in a searing kiss. “I promise.”

Even through the layers of fabric that covered her, Rey could still feel that he was hard, his arousal large as he rubbed himself against her.

A moan left her lips, and his kiss deepened. 

She was innocent, but she was not naive. The years spent reading indoors had done much for her education on intimate matters, piquing her curiosity in the process. She might have been ill her entire life, but she still had urges.

Urges that would now finally be satisfied.

He led her towards the four poster bed, stopping only when her back brushed against one of the pillars. 

It was then that he broke the kiss, panting as his hands roamed her body. “Turn around.” 

Heart fluttering with excitement, Rey did as he asked, holding onto the pillar as he fumbled with the buttons at the back of her dress. She was tempted to ask him to rip the offending garment, just as eager as he was to continue, but she said nothing, biting her lower lip in anticipation and surrendering to the thrilling sensation.

He removed each layer until none were left. The cold air kissed her skin and goosebumps peppered her flesh, yet deep inside she was burning, keen to be loved and touched. 

She looked over her shoulder, watching as his hungry gaze rested on her face. Her gaze travelled downwards, taking in his appearance and the dark clothes that contrasted so heavily to the pastels which dominated her bedchamber.

“You’re overdressed,” she said, her lips curled up in a smile.

He laughed softly. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “Perfect and _ mine _.”

His knuckles brushed against her throat then, and she shivered with pleasure. “As are you,” she murmured. “Mine forever…if this is a dream, then I never wish to awaken from it.”

“I should be the one saying that,” he replied, bending, so that his lips brushed against her earlobe. “To see you embrace the life I wish to give you…to see you embrace _ what _ I am...”

“_ Who _ you are,” she corrected, tilting her chin so as to give him better access to her throat. “You’re not a monster. No matter how much you believe that to be the truth.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed, anticipation coursing through her veins like a young flame - bright and filled with hope. “If you believe yourself to be a monster, Ben,” she continued, sensing the warmth of his breath on her skin, “then that means I will be one too after this night. And I know you do not think of me that way.”

She could feel him still in that moment, his lips inches away from her neck, his hands splayed on her back, likely on a journey downward that made her core throb with desire. When he spoke at last, his voice was calm, accepting.

“You are wise beyond your years.”

A soft chuckle left her mouth. “Soon enough my age will justify my wisdom, I suppose. But that doesn’t mean you lack it.” Her hands wrapped themselves around the pillar, tracing the swirly patterns embedded on the sturdy wood. “I suppose our experiences have shaped our beliefs, but fortunately we have enough time to study them. _ Together _.”

His lips finally brushed against her throat then, impossibly soft and plump. He placed a kiss upon her skin. “Yes,” he murmured, causing another wave of heat to wash over her frame. “Together.”

His teeth punctured her flesh at last, and Rey gasped.

It was not shock that claimed her, for she had wanted this to happen with all her heart and knew what turning her entailed. Instead, it was pure delight that coursed through her, fusing with sheer desire. Moisture gathered at the apex of her thighs and she rubbed them together in a meek attempt to soothe herself.

“Ben,” she moaned, finding it difficult to articulate her wishes further. 

He stopped drinking from her in an instant, soothing the puncture wounds with his tongue. She felt light-headed, but still surprisingly alert - an odd contradiction.

“Are you unwell?” he asked concerned. “Have I hurt you, Rey? What can I do to make it easier for you?”

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she took in his appearance - the soft eyes and worried brow. “I want…” she began, wetting her dry lips. “I want you to take off your clothes.”

Quirkling his lips, he obliged, stepping away to remove each garment until he stood in front of her as naked as she.

“What else do you want, my love?” he said, pacing slowly in her direction until they resumed their previous position, his body pressed against her back as her lower belly fluttered with desire.

What she wanted, she’d never experienced but, deep down, Rey knew he would oblige her if she showed him. Tilting her body, she took his hand in hers, placing a kiss upon his knuckles before he slipped it between her legs.

“This is what I want,” she whispered, a dusty pink blush blooming across the apples of her cheeks.

Understanding settled in his gaze then, and his fingers moved, eliciting another gasp from her lips. “As my bride desires,” he spoke, toying with her mound as if he’d been born to do it.

With each passing moment he increased her pleasure, taking her upwards until she peaked with a silent cry. Her breathing quickened, and she pressed her forehead against the pillar to steady herself.

“What else can I do for you, Rey?” he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, nibbling softly at the lobe.

The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. “I want you to take my vein again. I want you to make me yours...the way you know how.”

“Are you certain?”

She lifted her head, tilting it until she could look straight into his eyes. “Yes.”

  
  


~*~

  
  


When they finally made it to the bed, he buried his face between her thighs. Slipping his fingers inside her snug entrance, Ben made her soar again, and when he used his tongue it took every effort for Rey not to scream her release. 

In between those moments of passion, he would drink from her - quick and careful sips that never once deprived her of her consciousness, soothing the puncture wound with his mouth. He was passionate yet tender, determined yet patient - keen on enjoying every moment, and that only heightened each new sensation she was experiencing.

“You must drink from me now,” he told her after he brought her to another climax, bringing her close to his chest. “It must be done if you wish to be turned.”

She nodded at that, wondering just how he planned for her to do that.

It did not take long to receive her answer, watching in fascination as his fangs emerged and he punctured his right wrist. He then held it out to her like a precious offering, and Rey took it immediately, latching onto his wrist and placing her mouth over the fresh wounds.

At the first taste of his blood, she moaned. 

She’d pricked her fingers many times before, so the taste was not an unknown thing to her. But, this blood was different - like the sweetest and most fragrant wine. As she took from his vein, Rey wondered if this was a trait of his kind, or if it was Ben himself who was causing this reaction.

“You taste so good,” Rey whispered, when she’d drank enough, looking up from his wrist and into his eyes. 

As soon as her mouth left his vein, she could feel her senses sharpen - her ears attuned to each inhale and exhale that left her lover’s lips.

Cupping her cheek with his warm palm, Ben gave her a smile. “You taste better.”

Resting her back against the mattress, Rey chuckled, knowing full well what he meant by that. 

He shifted in the bed until he leaned over her, using his elbows for support. As if by instinct, her legs parted to accommodate his broad frame and her toes curled on the soft mattress.. 

“The change will be upon you soon,” he said, placing a kiss on the tip of her nose before claiming her lips with his own. “Unless you wish to reconsider.”

Bringing her hands to cup his cheeks, she shook her head. “Then we should not waste any time, Ben.”

After the events which transpired between them tonight, Rey knew without a shadow of a doubt where she belonged. 

From the moment she first glimpsed him striding along the waterfront, she had been entranced by his appearance - startling and otherworldly, unusual and beautiful at the same time. Heart fluttering as she sketched his profile on the parchment, all she could think of was how beautiful it would be if time stood still and she could look upon his face forever, untroubled by the illness which would shorten her existence. 

She placed a kiss on his lips, soft and plump as they parted to allow her to deepen it. Then, when they parted for breath, her gaze bore into his, steady and true. “Make me yours, Ben. Mate me.”

And so he did. 

His first finger slipped inside her snug entrance with ease, aided by the moisture which had gathered at the apex of her thighs. A soft moan left her mouth, and her eyelids fluttered closed for a brief moment as she experienced this new and pleasurable intrusion, while he toyed with her mound.

“Ben,” she murmured when he hit a spot inside her that made her core flutter, encouraging him to continue.

Her arms went up to bring him closer to her, so close she brushed her lips against his own before claiming him with sweet and inexperienced kisses, interrupted only by the whimpers he elicited from her with every movement. 

None of her readings had ever prepared her for this moment, for how it would truly feel to be with someone else - someone she loved, at that. The pleasure Ben could so easily wring out of her - the new feeling of sharing her body with someone other than herself - should have made Rey feel nervous, but her inexperience did not trouble her in the least. Instead, it filled her chest with anticipation and excitement, with the willingness and desire to learn his body and learn herself as well.

The thought emboldened her, and her hands journeyed across her lover’s shoulders, basking in the hardness of his muscles and the softness of his skin. He was a myriad of contrasts she yearned to explore, and he was _ hers _ \- and the thought itself brought her as close to a release as his touch did, especially as he rubbed his palm against her mound as his digits curled inside her heat.

“You are doing _ so _ well, Rey,” he encouraged her as a second finger joined the first, stretching her entrance to accommodate him. 

The sheer size of him had not remained unnoticed, and while she knew she should have felt nervous - as most maids were expected to be - Rey found herself eager instead, willing to take as much of him as she could.

With yet another silent cry, she peaked, muscles clenched against his fingers as if desperate for more, as if knowing this was only the beginning.

His fingers slipped outside her soon, and her core still pulsed, waiting to be filled.

It did not take long.

His member, large and hard, soon stroked her entrance and the head stretched it even further. A whimper escaped her lips, piercing through the silence.

“Rey,” he said her name, concern etched into his voice. “I hurt you, I hurt you…I’m…”

“Don’t stop,” came her reply as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. “Please don’t stop. I love you.”

He kissed the tears away, and she almost sobbed, touched by his tenderness. In truth, it was that which had caused the reaction, the pain of her first coupling swallowed by the intense pleasure he gave her - his progress aided by the wave of moisture coating his length.

_ Her _moisture. The realization that it was her response which enabled him to pleasure her, filled Rey with a sense of contentment. They were truly connected to each other, attuned to their needs and desires.

“Please don’t stop,” she said once more, spreading her limbs for him even further, like a flower in bloom.

His lips found her own and claimed them, and with that Ben swallowed the second whimper as his arousal slipped even deeper, touching a place inside her that caused Rey to sigh against his lips.

Soon enough, he moved, slipping in and out of her snug opening as his fingers brushed against her core. Toying with the folds, he brought her higher and higher, placing kisses against the side of her throat, grazing the skin with his teeth.

At the back of her mind, Rey knew what came next, and so she brought her hands to rest against the back of his head, guiding him to take what he needed and give her what she sought.

When his fangs punctured her skin she came, gasps softened as she bit her lower lip until she tasted her own blood as well. Still, the release washed over her like a wave gently lapping at the shore, curious and unafraid.

He drank from her one last time that night, just as her opening clenched against his own and his own release took over - painting her inner walls with his spend. She took all of him in, accepted him just as he did her, as if they’d somehow fused - mind, body and soul. 

After a few blissful moments, Rey’s vision blurred at last...and the bliss increased tenfold. Soothing whispers brushed against her ears, and tender lips kissed her neck in adoration. 

The familiar darkness loomed over her now, claiming her at last - but not as a hunter did its prey. Instead, it sought her like an old and welcomed friend, and she spread her arms and wrapped them around this trusted presence, succumbing to the abyss with sheer rapture. 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now they will be together forever! :) If you liked this update, please don't hesitate to leave comments and kudos. The epilogue is already written, so you won't have to wait long for the final installment. :)


	4. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One year later...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who supported the previous update. It means a lot to see you're still reading. As promised, this is the epilogue. As a disclaimer, Maz mistakenly believes that Rey has passed away. However, you all know I have a happily ever after policy, so nothing bad is ever going to happen to our couple! And really, it should be obvious what happened in the previous update with our vampire bride. ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this final update. Thanks to @LoveofEscapism for beta-ing. :)

_ One year later… _

  
  


The sun shone brightly over the sea as a three-masted ship sailed into Chandrila’s harbor. 

As Maz Kanata focused on the dozens of men and women setting foot on land for the first time in days, she wondered if Count Solo was among them. Though she knew it was useless to try and spot him among the crowd, for her vantage point was too far removed from all the new arrivals to do so, she still tried, wondering if the passage of time had done much to alter his appearance or manner.

Of course, to many a year did not seem like much. Even the waterfront on which she stood had not changed in all these months, suspended in time much like an artefact buried in the ground.

But people, Maz remarked to herself as she approached the bench and sat down, taking in the men and women who strolled near her, were usually quite different. They aged faster and changed their opinions often.

Just as she had, when Reyna passed away.

Letting out a pained sigh, Maz looked towards the waves as they crashed against the shoreline, deep in turmoil despite the pleasant weather.

She supposed the day resembled her in a way - outwardly calm, yet filled with grief. 

Just as the Count had been when he called on Rey that morning one year ago, only to be informed she’d perished during the night. A solemn presence with deeply concerned eyes.

Just as, Maz imagined…just as her charge had left this unjust world - peacefully, in her sleep, yet undoubtedly suffering from the cruel and merciless ailment that haunted her. 

She’d allowed him to see her - how could she not when it was clear he loved her so? And, as she watched him step inside Rey’s bedchamber, a towering presence perpetually clad in black, regret washed over her at the thought that she’d tried so hard to keep them away.

In truth, Maz remarked as she examined her surroundings - expecting the same towering presence to make his appearance anew, one year after the tragedy that destroyed and brought them together as unlikely friends - she had only done it to protect them, to spare them the suffering. Rey was not long for this world and, Maz had thought at the time, it was best to keep them apart and spare them the suffering.

In retrospect, it had been a foolish endeavour. They had been made for each other, brought together by fate, only to be separated by her with the cruelest stroke. Falling in love was inevitable.

Even now, one year after the fact, she remembered as the Count kneeled beside Rey’s bed, resting a hand on her cheek in adoration. 

At times, it frightened Maz to look upon Rey’s face, for in death she had grown more beautiful, her complexion oddly blooming with health and vitality. With everything she’d lacked in life.

If she did not know better, Maz could have sworn she was merely sleeping. 

Alive in death.

“How did she die?” the Count asked, a voice so even it might as well have been dead.

Looking away, Maz’s eyes focused on the window she’d opened just moments ago to let the fresh air in. “Consumption.”

She heard him shift behind her, but still would not dare turn around to look into his eyes. Fathomless pools of sorrow that troubled Maz deeply, for they had the look of someone who, despite all evidence which pointed to the contrary, was convinced Rey’s state was but a passing illness or a fainting spell from which she’d wake up at any minute. 

It seemed to Maz that even he was shocked by what he was seeing.

From the moment he’d stepped into Rey’s bedchamber, he’d never left her side. Even when she was moved into the drawing room in which he’d once courted her, reorganized to accommodate the coffin and wake, he was there beside her, faithful to his love even after the end of her days.

It was their sorrow and love for Rey which forged their friendship. They loved her in different ways, Maz knew, but that did not matter in the face of tragedy.

And even after the funeral had ended, and the Count departed for Naboo as he originally intended, they’d kept in touch, writing letters as he continued his travels and she remained in Chandrila - where she retired with a generous annuity from the heiress Maz had served until she breathed her last. 

The air of Chandrila had done her good, unlike her former charge, and Maz remained here, rooted like an old oak that refused to be moved. 

“He should be here soon”, Maz concluded as she tilted her head to bask in the waning sunlight. 

In his last letter to her, dated just a fortnight ago, the Count - who  _ still _ insisted that she call him Ben in the name of their friendship - announced his intention to return to Chandrila anew, to pay his respects. Then, after spending a few days strolling around the resort, he would journey once more to Naboo as he’d done before. 

It was kind of him to ask to see her, and when he’d told Maz he wished to meet in the same place he’d made Rey’s acquaintance for the first time, Mrs. Kanata immediately knew that his love for the young lady remained unchanged.

The passage of time had done nothing to alter it.

The sunlight dimmed even further as she sat on the bench, and Maz looked around once more to see if she could spot Ben among the hordes of gentlemen and ladies clad in white and pastels. 

It did not take long to spot him, and as soon as she did, Maz stilled. 

The Count…Ben...was unchanged, as if he hadn’t aged a day, his complexion somehow even more youthful than she’d seen him last, wrecked by misery and sorrow. He was as tall and imposing as ever, a stark presence amidst the townsfolk that swayed around him like fragile leaves of grass.

He approached her at a leisurely pace until the crowd in front of him dispersed like particles in the wind, and it was only then that Maz realized he was not alone. 

A young woman accompanied him, lithe and shorter in stature than he, with brown hair and a dark dress that matched his own in color and sophistication. 

Color drained from Maz’s cheeks as she stood up, gripping the bench with trembling fingers. 

The lady looked like a ghost from a time which had passed, albeit healthier than in the numerous memories Maz had of her, and with a beauty that was otherworldly.

Time seemed to go on for an eternity as the two figures approached her, and when they stopped just a few feet away from her at last, Maz’s breath hitched. Any greeting she might have had remained lodged in her throat as silence descended upon them like a shroud.

It was only after a few moments that the Count spoke, but she never saw his lips move.

“Mrs. Kanata,” he greeted her, but her eyes remained fixed on the lady accompanying him, the one who looked so much like…

“Reyna,” Maz breathed, watching as the young woman’s lips curled up in a gentle and familiar smile. Watching as she placed her right hand on Ben’s elbow.

A gold band glistened on her ring finger, catching the light of the fading sun as she nodded in acknowledgement. She then shared a brief look with her husband, her gaze shining with mirth before she spoke.

“Good evening, Maz.”

  
  
  


FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another fic is complete! If you've made it this far, thank you so much for taking a chance on this story. If you liked it, please let me know. Your comments and kudos encourage me tremendously.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this chapter, please don't hesitate to let me know. I value all your comments and kudos and would love to hear from you. You can also reach out to me on tumblr (@bunilicious) and on twitter (@bunilicious1). Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)


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